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Mat. (Furiously.) Thwarted! never? thus, Stanton, 

^JSSSTSL broadside for broa^die! 

(Tom s/wo/s him as he advances.) [Scene Last. 



MAT OF THE IRON HAND. 




51 Staima, 



IN TWO ACT 



Uc 



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■A 

7 



EDWARD FITZB\LL, 
Author of Walter Brand, Jonathan Bradford, Margaret's 
Ghott, Esmeralda, The Deserted Mill, The Wood 
Devil, The Sleepless Woman, fyc, tyc. 



PRINTED FROM THE BEST ACTING COPY, WITH UEUAttKS 
BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL, 

to which are added 

A description of the Costume, Cast of the Characters, Exits mid 

Entrances, and lite whole of the Sla^e business, 

Properties, and Directions: 

AS NOW PEKFOUMED IN THE 

LONDON AND AMERICAN THEATRES* 



Embellished with a fine Wood Engraving* 
From a Drawing taken in the Theatre. 



DimaftelpDU: 

FREDERICK TURNER, PUBLISHER; 

TURNER & FISHER, II NORTH SIXTH STREET. 

:Neto*¥orfc: 

TURNER & FISHER, 9© DIVISION STREET. 



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costume: 



STANTON — Brown shape, trimmed with black, grey pan- 
taloons, dark, vest, russet boots, black hat and feather. 

MAT— Dark shape, trunks and hose relieved with black, eap 
to correspond, large black boots. 

WALTER — Scarlet shirt and hose, with dark blue doublet 
black hat, and scarlet feather, black boots, and black leather 
belt. 

TOM — Scarlet jacket trimmed with tags, &c. loose blue 
trowsers, white shirt, black shoes and buckels, and red and 
blue woolen cap. 

ALFRED — Green shape, trimmed richly with gold, tight 
white pantaloons, white shirt and russet boots. 
^'"tlACK — Brown doublet, ragged blue pa nta toons, stockings, 
and shoes. Second dress — Gown of tawday silk, black 
bonnet, pink petticoat, and white apron. 

ROBERT — Brown jacket, blue shirt, blue hose, russet shoes. 

WRECKEKS— To correspond with Mat. 

SAILORS — To correspond with Tom. 

ELIZABETH — Open dove-< oloured robe, trimmed with pale 
blue, neat ruff, lace apron, hair flowing naturally down the 
shoulders, blue slippers. 

FANNY — Pink petticoat and black jacket, high crowned hat 
of black velvet, black shoes. 



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ACT 1 



nih^t / 



SCENE I. — An Ancient Manor House, much dilapidated, and 
bearing, over the Door, a Placard, *' This House to be 
Sold." A Rookery formedTof aged trees, all numbered 
with white chalk for the axe. 



"^r Enter Fanny Foxglove, l., 

** old tin kettle at his buck, and ai 



lowed fei/ Gipsey 



j followed by Uipsey Jack — an 
old tin kettle at his buck, and another in his hand, containing Jirel 

.*% 'Jack, (l.) Now, Fanny — Fanny Foxglove, I say — only 

teai me, one moment. 

Fan. (n.) Indeed, Mr- Jack, I cannot. I'm pertickly 

ingaged this evening. 
^^Jack. Ingaged \ I tell you I have depinded entirely on 

the sort of half promise you made me this time twelvemonths. 
Fan. I m wery sorry for your depinding on me— I hever 

goved you any encouragement. Turn Ci ingle's my loveyer 

and 

^ Jack. Tom Cringle ! ha, ha, ha! A filthy hackery sailor, 

who may niver come back from sea. V\ here's the use of de» 

pinding on him ! 

Fan. Ah, you won't shake my infidelity, and so, Mr. 

Tinker, good evening. [Going, c. 

^—■Jack. [Detaining her coaxingly] But, Fanny — recollect 

what a pleasant life you'd have of it as my wife. 

Fan. Mighty pleasant, indeed ! the wife of a gipsey tinker 

—covered with dust as the miller's horse ; wash one's linen 

in a roadside puddle, and dry it upon a blackberry bush. Ha f 

fea, ha! 



TOM CRINGLE. 



6 * t iff t ? m e y* 

i0ii00 «t£ack. Aye, but only think of the indepindgfte of travel- 
ling astrod yourVwn donkey, like the Sultanny of Morocky 
v on a drumg^ai^sgyJigto^ right pannier, 

Vmdja. liJtTe ^^s^np^^faLekl^he left, I following close 
Behind the quadruped's tail, with a fire-pot in one hand, and 
a large white thorn stick in t'other, bang, bang, bang — [action 
of strikirijg.] you singing, children squalling, and 1 whistling, 
eh? delightful! 

Fan. Oh, nonsence! You has my answer. I'm in a 
hurry ; I'm^dfling to call in at the manor house, at Master 

Stanton's here, and 

^*4ac.k. The very place I was a-going to. I always gets a 
job there — the cooks a deal of fish, and the sarce pans is a 
sort of yearly annuity to me ; I depinds upon it for lodging. 
[turning rowid] But what do 1 see? the manor house to be 
sold! [Looking at placard. 

Fan. Yes, and the old rookery trees, all to be cut down— 
they are nnmbered for the axe already. Master Stanton is 
going to leave the country, and take with him Miss Elizabeth. 
tJack. What, that nice pretty young lady, his darter ? 
Fan. No, not his daughter — merely a distant relative ; but 
she willl be his daughter whenever young Alfred, his only son, 
returns from sea — she being engaged to he, as I is to his 
walley, Mister Cringle. 

^-J&cfc. Mister! oh, la! she can't open her mouth, but out 
"" pops that Tom Cringle, like Jack-in-the-box. Butpoor Mas- 
ter Stanton — what has caused this alteration, eh ? 
Fan, Oh, losses by sea, and crosses by land. 
^^* Jack. Losses and crosses, eh ? I thought as how I saw 
Master Stanton as I came along, but so changed, I scarcely, 
knowed him. I should have made my bow, only he was talk- 
ing quite mysteriously like to a tall goggish ferocious chap, as 
seemed to vant a little of my assistance at soldering on that 
necessary impendage to his right arm, a hand — at least he 
had a kind of a sort of a hand— only, it was not a hand, but 

a claw like — it was ■ 

Fan. An iron hook. 
^^3ack. Yes, you've hooked it, exactly. 
r Fan. [Mysteriously] That was Mat Ironhand — almost a 
new comer here. Every body's afraid of him except Master 
Stanton, and he and Mat are as intimate as two herrings on 
the same string. 
^tJatk. Not the same hook 



TOM eiilMGlB. 

Fun. Strange stories are told of this Mat — horrible ones! 
«# Jack. [Drawing nearer.] No, tell me — of all things 1 loves 
anorrible story. Make it as diabolical as ever you can. 

Fun. [whispering.] They say that' Mat has the* pgwerof 
hooking up, out of the sea, with his iron hand, any fish. or 
piece of money, or — [Jack slips his arm round ftih' wuLt — sh$ 
starts.] L'sjh! ' 

W/c. Vol's the matter? 

Fan. 1 thought it was his hand hooking me up. 

Stan. [Without ! Fanny! Fluabeth is waiting your arrival. 

Fan. For sharne, Jack, don't you hea. Mr Stanton a calling 
on me ? 

-^Jack. [detaining her.] Stay, Fanny — at least I must solder 
up those ru'»v lips of vour'n— one snrtck. [g"ii>g to kiss her. 

Fan. [Striking him.] lake it. Who's to be kissed afore 
folks? [Fitters Manor, c r>. as Stanton comes jiom it 

-^Jack. Afoie folks! what does she mean by that? [Sees 
Stanton.[ Oh, hem ! 

Stan, (r ) Well, gipsey, whither are you going? 
M Ja k. Merely to make my beisance to your honor. I tho't 
your honor's culinary department might require a little 
repairing. 

Stan, [troubled.] Thanks — but we have no employment to 
give you this time, so good night. 

^&Juck. [bowing and scraping.] Mav be your honor won't 
forget the old charter , 1 always tiepinds on that, a mug o' hale 
and a crust of bread and cheese. I've corned along way, the 
ro.ids are very dusty and choking 1 only comes once a year, 
and 1 wishes of all things to drink the safe return of young 
Master Alfred, [tawningly.] Nice young gentleman— —~ 

Stan. [with tmotion.] My poor dear boy. 
4» Jack. \ Aside ] I've soldered the old gentleman neatly— I'm 
sure to get the hale, [aloud.] Your honor's sich a perfect 
gentleman — so few on 'em now-a days, sir. 

Stan. My good fellow, inhospitality is a ciime, which I trust 
I was never yet guilty of— go in, go in. 

Jack, [bowingj] i hanks, your h .nor. [a.s?Vfr.] Vot a happe- 

tite 1 has — and if Fan s.i's me any of her sarce, I'll — I 



wonder what's in the pantry - 1 really thinks I sniffs a rook^r 
.%£ pie. [Ixit through c d. into Manor House. Horn is heard. %£? 
Stan, [starting wildly.] Ah! 'tis the signal Mat agreed upon 



r Can it be ? a ship in sight— the night, too, coming on dark 
and stormy, [horn again.] I must be gone, [hurries of, i. 



8 TOM CRINCLB. 

SCENE II. — The deck of a Vessel under sail, commanding a 
view of the diitant land-— the rigging filled with Sailors, 4$c t 

/"*> *i CHORUS. 



^ 



Land, land, land! 

Rejoice each weary tar! 
Yes, yes, rejoice — 
Shout every voice, 

Huzza, huzza, huzza! 
[They wave their hats and give three cheers. 

Enter Alfred, from Cabin 

Alf. Yes, shore of my birth, in distance, 1 again behold 
thee — after three years of absence once more I approach my 
home. My father! my dear Elizabeth! Oh, what happi- 
ness exists in the reflection that I return enriched by the trea- 
sures of India, whose only importance to me is that 1 shall 
be enabled to reinstate my father in his former independence, 
and confer on my future bride, my beautiful Elizabeth, the 
happiness her merit so well deserves. Still three tedious 
leagues from land ! My impatience increases with every 
wave o'er which we glide. But where is my man, Tom 
Cringle, that he's not oh the look out? Tom Cringle, ahoy! 

Enter Tom Cringle, 1 e. r. 

Tom. Aye, aye, your honor! 

AlJ. (l.) What cheer, eh, Tom? 
- Tom, Home, sir, home. I swear I sees now, with my 
naked eye the tall trees of the owld rookery, where you and 
I used to wing them black creturs so. Caw, caw, caw! Ha! 
ha. ha ! We shall soon be popping at 'em again, master. 
Rook pie and parsnips are better than sea pie and lobscouse, 
I'm thinking. 

Alf. Is the luggage all ready ? 

Tom, Yes, sir ; there are your two trunks and your boat 
cloak, and, safely stowed under that, the chest of rupees, 
which you are towing home to your father Mister Stanton — 
who, though I say it, desarves jist such a present from sich a 
son as you are! 

Alf. Belay, Tom, none of your fair weather palaver. Bid 
the men get boat under weigh— we are near enough yonder 
headland to quit the ship now. 



TOM CRINGLE. 9 

Tom, Your honor's orders are already on the launch — the 
boat is now alongside, and the men stowing the cargo — see— 
[6'ai/ors carry the two trunks off, 2 e. r.. Two men carry dff » 
a small clasped chest, on which is written, "Alfred Stanton.'* . 

Alf. [as they take it off,] Be very careful of that — place it 
securely in the boat. 

Tom. [taking up the cloak.] Won't your honor put on the 
cloak ? I h ; sky has a dingy look, and may be, we'll have a 
dash of rain, even before we hail the village, [considering,"] 
Now every thing has been thought of — every thing — except 
my log book — I left it in the locker of my berth. Ah, thank 
you my lad. [to a I*oy, entering r. with a box, very small, 
fastened to a leathern belt, and shaped like a book. 

Alf. So, that's what you call your log book, eh, Tom?. 

Tom. Sartinly, your honor — it's book shape, you see, and 
•what's more, nobody can read it contents but myself. It was 
goved me, as you know, by your uncle, the nawbob of viys- 
ore, when I saved his life in the tiger hunt, It's a sort of 
tropy, and so I resolved niver to part with it; though to my 
thinking the owld skinflint grudged it afterwards. I mean 
no disrespect to your uncle, sir, but I can't help remember- 
ing how stingy he always wur to yourself, whenever you 
passed the word about your father's distress, and 

Alf. Well, Tom, that's all at an end now. If my uncle 
refused me the means of relieving my dear father's necessities 
during his, my uncle's lifetime, he has, by his death, made 
me master of affluence. The way to happiness only, now, 
lies before me ; so aboard, aboard, and hey for home and 
my dear, dear angel, Elizabeth. [x to r. 

Tom. Belay, your honor — every man to his taste. Miss 
Elizabeth's an angel, you say — now I left a sweetheart in 
yinder village, one Fanny Foxglove, and if I should return to 
find her any better nor a woman, skyscrapers and catheads, 
how moloncholy it would make me. 

Alf. Now, Tom, ashore! ashore! [Exit, 2 e. r. 

Tom. Aye, aye, sir ; I tows in your honor's wake. Good 
bye, my lads! and if any on you should drop anchor herea- 
ways, don't forget to be on the look out for an owld acquaint- 
ance, make sail for the Manor House, and may be you'll hear 
of Muster and Missus Cringle , a snug cabin, and, damrae, 
a hearty grip o' the fin ! [Exit, 2 e. r. The Sailors re- 

tire, singing part of the chorus, and the scene closes them in. 



)To 



10 TOM CRINGLE, 

SCENE ITT. — A Boom in Stanton's House. Window in r.c. 

/^0p ¥ - An old fashioned Cabinet [practicable] in l. c. r, 

Tuble und Chair on, r. Scene dark. 

Black Walter enters by the Window, which opens on the 

ground, and shows a distant view of the sea. Stormy. He 

advances cautiously. 

Wal. Stanton is with my father and the wreckers. Eliza- 
beth must be in the hou-e, alone, [listening.] Y^, I hear her 
f otstep. If yonder ship really, as 1 am assured, contains 
Alfred, to-morrow may be too late for mv design to carry off 
his mistress It must be done to night, or ntver! She 
comes — it is Elizabeth ! [conceals himself behind wing, r. 

- Enter Elizabeth, r. — a lamp in her hand. 

'li. This may be the last night I shall pass in this, my 
own little chamber. The house may be sold over our heads 
to morrow — nay, is so, perhaps, even at this moment. V\ ell 
to what ever part of the world my benefactor may think best 
to retire, I'll be ready to follow without a murmur. For his 

sake — for Alfred's Ah, that name ! what a retrosped of 

anguish does it renew ! Come, come, Elizabeth! for shame! 
is this your courage? While Fanny prepares the supper, 
humble as is, I'll assort my little wardrobe — all must be in 
readiness for departure, [places the lump on the table and 
opens cabinet.] Ah, here is my russet skirt, with the black 
boddice — it is very plain — the plainer now the better. Here 
is the whire robe unmade, which — [a wreath falls cut.] 
Heavens, what is that ? the wreath of roses which Alfred 
three days ere we parted, said should be my bridal wreath — 
faded, faded, faded! like the happiness of Elizabeth. 

[Wulter comes forward, and looks at her with attention. 

Wal. (r.- rather subdued.) Elizabeth. C-'V<? f — 

Eli. (i. — starting.) Ah! whom see 1 ? -^ 

Wal. Not the favored Alfred, but Black Walter, son of 
the wrecker, Mat of the Ironhand. 

Eli. What would you? What seek you 1 

Wal, Your love. 

Eli. You deem me alone — defenceless. Master Stanton ! 
my voice [g°i"g t0 R « 

Wal. [stopping her.] Will it reach him amid the roar of 
elements on yonder sea beach, wheie, under the crazy ruins 
of Dunraven Castle, he, this night, links his fallen fortunes 



t 



TOM CRINGLE. 11 

with those of the despised wreckers, whom once, he, most of 
all mankind, was known to detest and persecute. 
Eli. What infamy of falsehood is this you utter? 
Wal. Nay, if I am not believed, look from this window 
forth — [Opens window — lightning flashes, thunder rolls <5fc] — 
the flashing lightning will serve as a torch, or if not, there is 
the false beacon just kindled to decoy a strange vessel to split 
upon the sunken rock. See you not yon gaunt figure ? 

Eli. [crossing to window."] An elusion deceives these eyes 
or, it resembles 

Wul. Resembles, it is that of Master Stanton, I tell thee 
— confederate of Mat of the Iron hard. Thy guardian hath 
assumed the knife of the wrecker, and devoted himself to 

Eli. [i>-teiupiing him.'] I'll hear no more ! I dare not listen! 
My poor distracted relative, to what hath misfortune driven 
thee'? for if it be, indeed, as this man asserts, madness alone 
impels thy determination. [Signal Guns ere heard.] Oh, 
heaven ! a signal of distress— across the waves it came— a 
ship in trouble — those hidden rocks — that fatal beacon ! I 
understand ! He is mixing his hand with such crime ! mad- 
ness ! [Gipsey Jack puis his head in at the window. 

Wal. You forget — I have come hither to speak of love. 

J ack. Oh, that's it! is it ? — I'm here by mistake then ! 

#"»■ [retires. 

Eli. Love! Oh, how out of tune! Release me ruffian! 
let me go — let go my hands. 

Wal. No : 1 have watched my opportunity too long, to re- 
linquish thee ; from the first moment I beheld thee ; I re- 
solved that you should be mine ; mine ; in your solitary ram- 
bles, amongst those cliffs. — Many times, I could have sprung 
upon you. as the wild fox springs upon the rock pigeon, but I 
was afraid, for there is still an awe hanging over those who 
dwell within the pale of honesty ; 1 was afraid to grasp this 
and, as I now grasp it, till your relation, Philip Stanton, 
became one of my own calling, and reduced himself to the 
wreckers level. Now, Elizab-th Stanton, I dare to tell, even 
you, how I love you ; you shall become my bride. 

Eli. [wildly ] Ha, ha, ha ! 

Wal. Mockery! scorn! all, I heed not — they only serve, 
in my eyes, to render you more lovely. Alfred, of whom, I 
have heard you speak, as if he were too good for this earth, 
shall never return alive to claim your hand — never ! — if he 
be so worthy of a better world, let him seek it. [gloomily 



r-* 



\t TOM CRIXCLB. 

Eli. You say this to terrify me, T 'm sure you do, Walter of 
the Cliff, do not drive me mad, as your father has already well 
nigh driven the only true friend, save Alfred, that 1 have in 
the world. 

Wat. I, Walter of the Cliff, will he your protector, your 
true friend ; your husband. ! you sha[l require none other — 
have none other. 

Eli Why do 1 listen to thee? — I that should be on the sea 
beach, at the knees of my guardian j to undeceive nim ! to 
avert his mistaken purpose. 

Wat. Avert! ha'^ha! ha! the web is too closely woven 
round both him and^you.to be easily shaken off ; he is already 
the victim of my father —you are mine. 

Eli, {struggling ] I understand thee not! leave me! to 
the sea beach, I 

WaL. .And I attend thee. 

Eli. No! no! no! 

Wat. Yes ; thy futnire home is there ! there, in the Wrecker's 
haunt, amid the storm defying ruins of Dunraven castle! 
-come, Elizabeth 1 [drugging her towards window. 

Eli. Help! aid me heaven! help! 

[T^P^ J ack enters from window, Fan ny, r. 

# Jack. (u. c.) Hillo! does any body want the tinker here 
Any old pots or tin kettle to mend, eh] I think you called 
afor?, Miss, didn't you? 

Fan. (r.) Black Walter ' Miss Elizabeth! 

Wat. (l. c.) Rascally tinker! ill looking hound, begone 

or " 

^+Juch, To be sure, so I will : paws off, black whiskers, or 
depend on it you'll get a burn of my soldering iron! and as 
for " rascally tinker,'' let me tell you ! if 1 am a tinker, I'm 
not half so black as you are. 

WaL Miserable patchei of kettles, have a care! 
j.3ack. Up, soldering iron, and do your duty manfully. 

['threatening, 
Wat, Then, thus do I hurl thee grovelling to my feet.— 
[striking him down ] Now, Elizabeth, leave your noble cham- 
pion to Fanny, to provide a plaster for his broken crown 
Nay, resistance is all in vain. [n> Fanny.] Not a cry, not a 
step, [sneering.] It is a woman's July to attend the wounded. 
[Hcbmrs Elisabeth, fainting, through the window. 



tcm c king lb. 13> 

Fan. Ill scream the roof down! help! help! 

<0r ^~^Jack. [lifting his head up sheepishly.] Is he gone! 

Fan. Yes, and you — why don't you pursue the villain. 
Ah, Jack, Jack, you're little better than a coward. 

^^^^•Jack. [rising.] I'm no coward, only it's contrary to flesh 
and blood to grapple with Lucifer's eldest son. One thing I'm 
determined to do. to save the ship, which I heird him ?ay, 
was to be lured to destruction by a false beacon. I'll to the 
opposite side of the creek ; my firepot is b'dow, I'll set fire to 
the straw cottage on the cliff, that \ ill turn the vessel into 
safe harbor; and if 1 have surYeied one damned scoundrel to 
escape, i'll save a whole crew of brave fellers to pay for it; 
and then, who'll say of Gipsey Jack, that he's unworthy of 
the name of tinker ? no, no, ven I makes a botch, 1 know how 
to mend it, that's one comfort. . [g°i"g* 

i/T /fan. But don't leave me here ? mJ* 

SCENE IV. — A retired part of the ruins of Dunraven ' 

/k/f\ f^ Castle. Storm raging. 



"3- 



Enter Mat, forcing on Stanton, r. 

Mat. (r.) Remorse! stuff! what have we to do with 
remorse ? in all probability, yon ship would founder ere day- 
break, and why not on our part of the coast as well as else- 
where ? It will be none the worse for the crew, and all the 
better for us. Arouse thee ! be a man ! 

Stan, (r ) A man I dare to be, but not a murderer. 

Mat. Why these scruples ? said you not, if you could secure 
independence enough to recall your son, that you little cared 
how it was obtained ? 

Stan. 1 did — in desperation I did; but conscience — the 
world 

Mat. The world? what has the world left thee? To-mor- 
row it will not have left thee a home, not even.a refuge for 
thy old age— house, land — all lost! nothing will remain to 
thee but 

Stan, To die ! 

Mat. And that you would do. 

Stan. Yes, without a murmur. 

Mat. A father you, and say this ? 

Stan. Why, awake within my heart,- Oh, Alfred t 

oh i agony, tormenting ? 



* 



14 TOM CRINGLE. 

Mat. The poor orphan girl, too, Elizabeth, depending 
solely upon your fortunes ; you said you loved the damsel as 
a daughter, that she was to be the wife of your son. Is there 
no responsibility in all this, which should pervert a man's 
thoughts from the selfish quietude of the grave? 

Stan, [wildly.] Tho'rt right! right! I am too selfish ; I 
have dreamed only of my own welfare. — [gnws.] —Hark! the 
vessel is much nearer, let us to the look-out, my friend, par- 
don this weak timidity; I — hence humanity from my breast; 
nature, nature, make of me a demon! [Mat urges him on at 
the same time expressing vengeance.] [Exeunt, l. 

SCENE V. — The ruins of Dunraven Castle, opening to the 
Sea, which is greatly agitated. On the 3 e. r. is an old 
Turret, with arnken steps. Up to the door frow the Jur- 
ret-window, is a\eacon lump swinging to and fro. On the 
3'e. l. is a Gothic doorway leading to an inner court of 
the castle. In the distance on the l. is a high Cliff, with 
a small Thatched Cottage on the top. 

Wreckers enter 2 e. r. hearing pieces of wreck, chests, <§fc, 
. which they take into the interior, 2 e. l. Mat and Stan- 
ton enter, 1 e. l. 

Mat. [to Wreckers, l.] Well done, lads, more store to the 
magazine! away all ; take each his quantum of brandy; in 
less than twenty minutes, yon ship — [pointing off, u. e. l.] — 
will be upon these rocks, at our mercy, a rich cargo! a rare 
cargo she has! In, in ! and arm for action! [Wreckers shout 
and enter doonvay, 2e l.} Still so distant! — The lantern — 
[to Stanton, r.] requires a fresh supply of oil, you'll find 
plenty on the head of the stairs : be it your duty to renew 
the declining energy of yonder flame ; mine, to kindle to 
desperation the flame of courage, there. [Enters Castle, l. 

Stan. What infernal office have I taken upon myself! 
Dare I look back upon what I once was, or mediate on what 
I now am ? Alas ! it must be, that, at the hour of man's 
birth, Fate, in her iron book, records his destiny: Time turns 
over, every day, a leaf, till, at length, comes leaf the last, 
revealing all, that we are born alike to suffer, and alike to die. 
[pausing.'] But my son, my son ! waters of the deep ! thunder, 
avenging lightnings! what ye have robbed me of, it is but 
just ye should give me back again. Up, up, dim fire, thou 



TOM CRINGLE. 15 

canst not strew around these yelling waves, a wreck more 
deep, more terrible than this. 

[Pressing his heart and huirymg into the tower, r. 
Enter Walter, forcing Eliza bet u fonvard , & v her dishevel' 

led hair floating in the wind. Slorm raging. 

Wal. Look there. — [pointing off, v. e. l.] — Seest thou 
nothing ? 

Eli. Oh, yes, distinctly, a labouring ship I see, it makes 
towards these rocks. 

Wal. Yes, attracted by that false beacon. — [the lanthorn 
bums more vividly.] Elizabeth, whom think'st thou is in that 
ship? 

Eli. Alas! how can 1 answer? 

Wal I'll tell thee, who is there. — Alfred is there ! 

Eli. [shrinking down, l.] Alfred! no' no! 

Wal. Yes; in every craft, the Wrecker hath his spy : I 
tell thee Alfred is there, and the ship must perish. 

Eli. Must! is there not a heaven above'' 

Wal. Thinkest thou the course of yonder vessel depends 
on Providence or the elements! No, Elizabeth, that decoying 
light — [pointing to beacon ] draws her as naturally to de- 
struction as the lamp flame enticeth the moth. 

Eli. Great powers! Will nothing rescue my poor Alfred? 

Wal. Yes! consent to become mine, when the clock of th'e 
inland church strikes the hour of eleven in the morning, and 
this hand, which shall not till then, demand thee as its bride, 
will, despite the knives of a thousand wreckers, extinguish ^ 
yon false beacon, so the ship will on her way and Alfred live, t^ 

Eli. To cuise, perhaps, Elizabeth! Deceiver! what is it >\ V 
thou would'st urge me to ? Thine! I never can — or will — *£^ / 
[Shuddering. Signals fired. The Ship is seen entering from / 
v. e. i. plunging and working across to r. Storm. 

Wal. Well, be it as thou list. Neaier and nearer the ship 
rolls — in a few short minutes thy bridal peal is like to prove 
- the cries of the perishing. His drowning cry amongst them 
I — what is that to V\ alter? Let the sea ring fa's knell, Eliza- 
beth shall still be Black Walter's bride. 

Eli. [covering her ears with her hands."] Monster! do not 
kill me with those hideous words! 

Wal. [crossing to l. and dragging Elizabeth.] Come, into 
the wreckers lair! [bud laughter without, l.] Listen, how 
their savage natures rejoices at the anticipation of plunder, 



TOM CRINGLE. 



perhaps of blood — that nature is not more stern than, thine T 
They, impelled by necessity, sacrifice their would- be^foes f 
thou refuse th to save all thou pretendest to love — Alfred! 
Come, bride thou shalt be. [pointing to castle, 

Eli. (r. c.) Thou wearest in thy girdle a knife— kill me,, 
in mercy kill me, or — [rvshing up to the buck.] into the raging; 
sea, from yonder rock^ with Alfred to die ! 

Enter Stanton, hastily, from Turret, r. 

Stan. How's this? Elizabeth struggling with that ruffian* 
Villain, stand off, or 

Wal. [Sternly.] Beware, old man! lam the son of Mat 
of the Iron Hand! 

Stan. Were you Lucifer himself, this insult should not pas& 
unpunished. Dog ! [strikes him. 

Wal. [rushing upon him.] A blow! I never could endure- 
V- that, even from my father. AJblow it can only be washed 
y ~ out by blood. Die ! [dashiiig him down, and presenting his 
ty J OMnife at his throat— Elizabeth utters a scream, and jails in an, 
>-** attitude of. supp ication on her knees, on l, of Walter.] 

Eli. (x.) Oh, for my sake, spare him ! 

Wal. (o.) Yes, for thy sake, I will ! both him and his son- 
Swear the oath Idictated — swear to become Walter's Dride— 
— eleven — to-morrow < 

Eli. [wri7iging her hands.] Alas ! alas! 

Wal. You hesitate — both shall perish ! you their murder- 
ess ! [raising the knife. 

Eli [arresting his hand.] Ugh! stay! [distructed.] I — B 
swear! 1 swear! [thunder is heard.. 

Wal At the hour of eleven — mine — to morrow! 

Eli. [despairingly.] 1 have sworn it. 

Wal. [putting his knife by.] Enough! the old man y s life is- 
already tree — for Alfred 

EU 4 [looking towards the ship.] There is not a moment to 
be lost ' 

Wal. [putting her across to n.] No ; up thou to yonder 
turret top, extinguish the false beacon, while I to the Bay,, 
and set in flames the old straw cottage on the cliff — so the 
ship will tack to whither she may ride in safety, and the pro- 
mise of Black Walter may be performed. To the Turret, thou! 
^i Eli. Yes, yes. [enters turret, r. The Cottage on the Gliff 
/* ixppears inflames, *jt. 

3^ fcO^ Mb <"**#£ 



TOM CRINGLE. 17 

Wat. What see I] the cottage on the cliff already in 
iflames! the devil sure anticipates my intention — still Eliza- 
beth must deem the action mine ; besides, my father's wrath 
I would avoid. Ha, ha, ha! [Seeing the Beacon Light eipire 
and Elizabeth at the window, he exits behind the turret, k. at back. 

Enter Mat and Wreckers, laughing and singing 2 e. l. 

Mat. Ha, ha, ha! Now, boys, plunder, plunder ! 

All. Aye, plunder, plunder! 

Mat. [seeing Stanton senseless on the ground.] What devil's 
deed is here ? Master Stanton on the ground? senseless! 
Who has done this? 

Stan, [recovering and rising.] Thy son! thine — this teme- 
I nty 

Mat. Leave that to me. Where is the boy? [turning,'] 
| "See, what flame is that on the west cliff? [the light is broader 
and stronger — the ship begins to tack and suil towards it.] Our 
beacon light extinguished ! the ship recedes trom the rocks, 
making towards the safe waters of the bay. Wreckels, we 
are foiled — I cannot tell how. Ah ! who is she, that like the 
witch of the strom, look forth, from yonder turret upon the 
waters? 'tis she hath extinguished our lantern. 

Stan. fclizabeth ! 

Eli. [at window.] Father, the ship is saved ! rejoice, re- 
joice! Alfred is on board that deck. 

Stan. Alfred? thou — [to Mat.] thou knewest of this? 

Mat. [ccllty.] I did ? 

Stan. And thou didst tempt a desperate father to kindle a 
false beacon to lure his only son to ruin ? 

Mat. 1 did ! 

Stan. Oh, fiend! fiend! what deadly injury had lever 
done to thee? 

Mat. Ask this iron hand ! 

Stan, Mysterious being ! what art thou 1 I do not under- 
stand thee. 

»-_ , Mat. I'll thee all [a cry without.] Hark ! heard I not 

la cry from the sea? Are any of my people perishing! Where's 
M'tay son — my boy Walter — is he safe ? Girl, why are thine N^ 
eyes so intently fixed on the dark billows? VVhatseest thou? /-^ 

'Eli. [at window.] One that battles almost vainly with the 
waves. There are two — two! the other hath disappeared — 
.help! help, for pity's sake !X[Sf<?r?ra becomes louder — Tom ~ 
Csingle appears struggling with the waves from the l. — he *- 



\9 TOM CRINGLE. 

climbs up a rock, and the Wreckers support him forward. Mat 
glances at the Log, which is still round his neck.] 

Mat. [reading inscription.'] " Tom Cringle's Log!" doubt- 
less a concealed treasure. J his at least the storm hath sent 
ye. [Takes the Logoff Tom's neck, arid tosses it to Wreckers, 
who try to open it. At the word " Tom Cringle," Elizabeth 
utters a cry and disappears.] 
Sttm. Tom Cringle! 

Tom. [wildly — thinking himself still at sea.] I hear ye, 
master — lam near you, master! keep -up your courage — 
kee,p up your courage! A few more eibrts., and all will be 
right. Look at the beacon light! Land*! land! Master, 
d«ar master, where are you? Master Alfred! 
Stan. Alfred! 

Eli. [Entering hastily from turret — comes dawn r. of Tom.] 
Ifes, yes — do you not recognize these features ? 'tis Tom 
Cringle, the young mariner, who followed the destiny of Alfred 
to India. 

Tom. [gazing wildly at Elizabeth.] That sweet voice ! the 
spirit of the storm is watching over us! Master, listen— it 
uttered your name— it — oh— —where am t? 
Eli. Sale, safe ashore — do you not know me ?1 
Tom. Miss Elizabeth! but my master? 
Stan. My son— Alfred? 
Tern. Aye, where is he ? where ? where ? 
Stan. In yonder ship, I hope. 

Tom. No, no ; we quitted it together. His eagerness to 
behold his father — his Elizabeth— to place at their feet the 
wealth of his dead uncle — the sudden storm — the darkness 
— every effort failed us — the boat split upon the rocks — 
there 1 — I held my poor master in these arms till I had 
strength no longer — 1 saw him glide from me across the wave 
— I saw his pale face, turned towards me, in the light of that 
turret beacon — he gave me one last despairing look — a word, 
he uttered — it was like a prayer — darkness came over me, 
and when again the lightning flashed poor I om Cringle was 
alone — quite, quite alone — his master had perished— perish- 
ed— — [Fuinls in the arms of Wreckers, who lead him back, 

Wul. [Advances from the back, down l. and takes the hand 
of Elizabeth.] The ship rides in safety! thou art mine to- 
morrow! thy oath! eleven! 

Mat. (r. gazing triumphantly at Stan.) Thou art childless! [J 
Stan, [pressing his brow.] Alas! what shall sustain me ? 



TOM CllINOLK. ./■? /«? 19 

I \ c / c 

Mat. The hand of thy friend ! [A picture is formed — Tom 
supported in c. senseless — Elizabeth kneeling c— Walter stand- 
ing over her— -Stanton, Jialf distracted, r. Mat holding his Iron 
Hand towards him — Wnckers trying to open Log, at back, and 
the whole illumined by the flames of the Cottage, 

END OF ACT I. 




SCENE L— . 

Elizabeth is discovered, seated in an Arm Chair, her Head 
reclining on Fanny'' s bosom. 

FU. (l.) Bless thee, dear girl, for the thought that Alfred 
still lives — for his own sake — for his poor father's sake, how 
"would it glad these gushing eyes to behold him once, once 
•again. [ Weeps. 

Fan. (r.) For his own, own sake, aye, and for your own 
sake. 

Eli. My sake! alas, that dreadful oath! 

■Fan. Oath! what oath, Miss Elizabeth ? 

Eli. A miserable one.! I swore to Black Walter, that 
■would he save yonder ship, and spare the life of Alfred's 
father, that I would become his, the wrecker's bride ! Fanny, 
Fanny, the ship is saved! though Alfred perished, my bene- 
factor's life is spared, though he hath no longer a son! 

Fan. And, for this you would marry Black Walter? 

Fli. [solemnly.] I have sworn it ! and oaths are registered 
in Heaven, to appear against us, at that great awful day 
which comes after death. 
— Fan. Not oaths such as this, they are only recorded in the 
devil's pocket book — you give your hand to Black Walter? 
I youis! why, I wouldn't give mine, unless there was a rope 
in it to hang the wretch with at the church door. 

Eli. What is the hour? 

Fan. The steeple clock hath stricken ten long since. 

Eli. [starting wp.^Gracious Heavens! so near the time! — 
•whcre's Master Stanton? 



20 TOM CRINGLE. 

Fan. To-day, you know, the old Manor House is to be sold, 
and he's gone down, perhaps to the auction. 

Eli. Alas, alas! what must he think of me? that I desert 
him in this trying moment — I'll seek him on the seabeach 

amongst the rocks 

Fan. Tom Cringle has gone there already, to look for and 
conduct him to you, here, at my cottage. 

Eli. That's kind, very kind ; but the voice of Elizabeth 
will have more persuasion than that of a stranger. 

[Footsteps heard without. 
**F k an\ HfeiJI some on% comes. ; i f "*l \ \ 

Eli. Iris Black # Walter— he conies to detnSid the fulfil- 
ment of my terrible oath. «fc^- 
y"a«. I'll tear his eyes out. 

Wal. [without.] Elizabeth! [Elizabeth utters a scream and 
/}/' & ^oxters her eyes with her clasped hands — Walter Enters, o. in r. 
— advances « .] Elizabeth, remember y*ur oath — I am here to 
claim your hand. 

Eli. ( l. — after a pause— faintly.) Take it. 
Fan. (c. — interposing as he ad varices.) Take the devil's hoof 
sooner, and that's more in your way, I'm sure, — if you dare 
to touch her, you'll find I'm not quite so gentle to deal with, 
I promise you. 

Wat, [menacing.] Stand aside, mistress, or 

Fun. Oh, aye! threaten me— that's like you — to attack 
the defenceless is quite in your way, or you wouldn't be a 
wrecker. 

Wal. Then I must force you — [Putting her aside as crosses 
to Einabeth.] 

Fan, Help! murder! Tom! Tom Cringle! 

Enter Tom Cringle, d. in i. — heruns to Fanny, 

Tom. Here I am, Fan — hollo ! the ship in a breeze ! what's 
in the wind now ? no privateering — [to Walter.] grappling 
irons off, there ! no skylarking in this quarter, or damn me, 
but you get a broadside right athwart your mizzen. 

Wal. (c. — scornfully.) I came not here to bandy words 
with dross like you or you. 

Tom. (r. c.) What the devil does he call dross ? b( bbing 
his head from one to the other, like a buoy in a rough swell ? 

Wal, [sternly.] Elizabeth, are you ready to become my 
wife! 



TOM CRINGLE. 21 

Eli, [mournfully.] I must keep my oath. 

Tom, Wife ! Miss Elizabeth wife to sich a s*ea sarpint as 
that! sure I'm aground on Fog Island! what does all this 
mean, eh, Fan ? 

Eli Alas, I have made a fatal vow to become his. 

Tom. Avast! you, surely, don't mean to keep your vow to 
sich a swob ? 

Eli. I dare not break it ; no, I feel I shall not many days 
perhaps, not many hours, suivive this dreadful trial ; 1 would 
meet Alfred there — [painting w Heaien] Can 1 do that, and 
violate this solemn compact ? no ! W a4ter of the Cliff, be- 
yond all mankind, thou art my aversion ! I did not thiuk it 
was the nature of Elizabeth, to hate any living creature, 
deadly or venomous, as 1 detest thee, thou most ungenerous 
of men ! But, there is my hand, if thou canst take it, laden 
as it is with professed abhorrence, 'tis thine! 1 dare to become 
thine, despising thee — but, I dare not bieak, even this cruel 
oath, to shut myself from that Heaven, where he, Alfred, 
awaits nee. 

Tom, Well, this ma\ be religion, but curse me if it's gospel. 
And, do \ou think, Miss Elizabeth, as how my master whose 
waiting aloft, as you say, to receive you alongside on him, 
iinto the heaven of happiness, would ever forgive me, Tom 
Oingle, if I was to stand by here, and see you subject your- 
self to this unpossible sort of quarantine — no, nor, I'mdarm.ed 
if 1 does, And 1 tell you what, Black Walter — and black as 
Belzebub you are — since you are so bent upon the matiirao- 
nial noose ; I'll be off to the ship there, in the Bay, present- 
ly, and you shall have noose enough, to unite your whole 
infarnal gang, to every tree in the owld roo%ery of the Manor 
flouse— so sheer off, and make the best use of your cunvaa, 
oefore yon're overtaken by my hemp. 

Wat. Braggart it would have been time enough for you 

to bully, when you had cleared the enemies decks, [whistles — 

Four Wreckers Enter'— they seize him, and take into the r., corner 

. as Wulter drags Elizabeth up to the door.] You see the bride- 

1 groom hasn't come without his bridesmeu ! 

Tom. The devil without his imps, you mean. 

Wal. That fellow would sell us to the government ! my 
father will decide his fate, and the hemp which he spoke of, 
not have been mentioned invain. Mow, Elizabeth, it is your 
wedding day. %/*V ^5 [Hurries her out at the door, 

Tom. [struggling,] I shall go mad ! Thunder and explo- 



22 TOM CRINGLE. 

sions, and blowings up, are butterflies wings to this. Fanny, 
have you niver sich a thing as a brace of pistols, in your waist- 
coat pocket. Oh, you thundering swobs! only let me catch 
you, one of these days, astride a gun, and Lucifer's breakfast 
parlour under us, see what a mouthful you'll be for the owld 
gentleman; [As they drag him up to the door.] You lash me 
to the yard arm! not while I've powder enough in this locker 
to send daylight through your ugly ribs. [As he st'Uggles with 
them — Fanny snatches a sword from Wrecker's girdle — Tom 
breaks away, and taking the sword, stands prepared for action — 
Two Wrecker's run out at Door — the other two in attitude, l. 
—Picture.] 

Fan, (r.) Give it to them, Tom — do, dear Tom! 

Tom. (r. c ) You crowd all sail, Fan, and keep Miss Eli-* 

zabeth's bows above water, till I comes — [Fanny leans against 

him.] — Lord love you don't you be arter getting sterikey, now 

this is only fun for me, as the devil said, when he tarred the 

exciseman, and applied a lighted match to his pig tail — there 

go, Fan, there's a good gal; tell Miss Elizabeth not to cry 

amen, till 1 heaves in sight, [putting Fanny out d. in f.] Now 

vou ratified rascals, which of you is for the first grizzle on my 

toasting iron? Don't think I'll give in as long as two planks 

o' me stick together. [Combat. — He beats one off, c. in r. — 

^ strikes the sword out of the others hand, who rushes tip to door 

i\ ■ and calls in the rest — they secure Tom, and bear him off by his 

«* hands and feet, through d. in f. 

SCENE II.— 'A Marine Cavern, opening to rocks and sea — r. 
h. a small Church — Stores, casks, §c. laying about — 3 e. r. 

. — a.,carpntpd cavern. * /~* J -. 

r)j^ \/y0 a. *+**^<. 

r-^'G ypsey Jack, dressed as a boatman, puts^ his head out of a cask 
*"~~ l. "which" 'has a UK and hasp to it. 

^^..Jack. Fooh ! what a night I've passed, stowed up in this 
*""*"""here cask like a pickled lobster. T'm afraid if the Wrecker 
catch me, for setting fire to the cottage on the West Cliff, W 
they'll sarve me as they do the ells — a pretty figure 1 should d 
look running about without my skin — 1 thought, 1 might de- 
pind on this old gentlewoman's dress, which I round where it i 
wornt lost, to escape out of the parish; but curse 'em, wreck- 
ers have no respect even for female innocence. All seem 
pretty quiet — now, if I could but put my best leg forward 



TOM C KING LB. 



23 



{putting out a leg.] Let me be very careful not to expose my 
calf, for I must say, for a lady, it is perhaps, a little overgrown. 
{none— he recoils.'] Ha! some one coming! Diffidence be- / 
friend me. [conceals himself* rf 

Enter Stanton, it., looking wildly about. 

Stan. My boy, my poor drowned boy ! even now methinks 
I see him frowning on me — me, his unnatural father! — that 
lured him to his doom —some hideous punishment awaits me 
— 1 feel as if, in a few moments, these o'erhanging rocks 
would descend, and bury me, and all beneath them, in their 
crumbling ruins ! 
^^~Jack. [popping up his head.] Oh, dear ! I feels pertickly 
uncomfortable ! 

Stan.. Suicide is the only way to escape. 

-Jack, [listening.] Which side did he say to escape ? 

&taii. Yes, I'll adopt the certain means of departing hence 
unnoticed. 
Jack, [uhotit to get out.] I'll follow his example. 
''"""' Stan, '1 his vial — opium. [producing it. 

Jack. Oh, la ! don't let him depind upon me as his footman. -^ 
*<r [conceals himself. (j£s 

Stan, [staring.] A voice ! [crosses to l., looking abuvt.] No? 
I am alone — all that remains to me of my fallen oppulence, 
is here— [shewing vial.] This will calm my heart, and yield 
it dreamless sleep. Eternity, to thee,I dedicate the draught ; 
now, while no eyes look on [Near the cask — as he holdd up the 
bottle over the cusk — Juck pops up and seizing his haiuLtukes it 
from him. L/V& 'fjT 

^ Jack. Yes, but an eye does look on, and an eye will see 
you damned before you poisons yourself. [Enters J rom cask.] 

Stun, (l.) Insolent! who are you, woman 1 
~» Jack, (r.) Woman! [aside.] Now, if heknowses nothing 
' on me, 1 may venture insafety — I'll try. [aloud ] Who am 1, 
,_ _ vour vorship? vy, I'm a lady, on a sta side excursion, [aside] 

It female pursuit shall 1 hit on? [aloud.] I'm a feminine 

lor —I'm a sailor. 

Stan. A sailor ? 

•Jack. Yes — that is to say, I'm Sailor Sal. [aside.] If he 
doesn't extinguish me, I may go out. [aloud.] Is your honour 
Walking my way? I wants a protector 

Stan. No, no, give me back the opiate; I wish to die. 



24 TOM CRINGLE, 



I 






>*Jack. Die, nonsense — don't do no sich a thing — laud bless 
your poor crazy head, why any fool can die — how to live is 
the question now-a- days — but you shan't have this stuff; if 

you are lor a drop o' summut a little better, just see vot I 
carries under my vaistcoat — [pulling up his petticoats, and pro- 
ducing a bottle.] My mother, though she was in the stronomy 
line, always carried the same anti goat about her ; in winter, 
to keep out the cold; in summer, to keep out the heat. 
Drink—— 

Stan. None for me, I must be gone ! Ha ! Mat here! 

[Looking, l. 
Jack. Mat ! then I'm sure T must keep up my spirits. — 
~ rinks.] In case of violence, spirit of woman's bravery, de- 
scend and coinjbrt me. 

fa? [ Drinks, and c onceals himseljF jb ehind cask*. 

Enter Mat, Tom, and the Wreckers, 1 e. l. 

Mat. [pointing to Tom.] That fellow to be kept prisoner ! 
Walter's in the right ; we haven't been able to open, what he 
calls his log book, he shall teach us that secret, presently. 

Tom.. [Aside — coming down, r.] The sooner it come to 
that, mayhap, the better. I'll just keep a look out for squalls; 
only let me get sea room enough, and I'll teach 'em to clap 
me, a king's man, into their piratical bilboas. 

Mat, (c.) Silence! no* grumbling ! But where's my son, 
Walter 1 ho! boy, Walter! 

Enter Walter and Elizabeth, followed by Wreckers, l. 

Wal. (f. c.) Father, I am here, with my new made wife. 

Mat. (c.) Thy wife, boy 1 

Stan, (r.c.) Wife! 

Tom. (r.) The devil ! spliced to him! 

Eli. [To Stanton t und thr wing herself at his feet.) Do not 
curse me, till you have heard my story. 

Wal. [crossing to Mat.] Up, wife ! [to Sta7iton.] Enough, 
to save your life at the foot ol the Beacon Turret — she swo:e 
to l,e mine 

Stan. Thine! to save my life! that life, which, but now I 
would have cast from me as a worthless grain of sand. 

Eli- May, dear sir, thy preservation was not all — he, Wal- 
ter, set fire to the cottage on the West Cliff, in order to res- 
cue from destruction, the vessel, in which, alas, I hoped that 
our lost Alfred 



TOM CRINGLE. 26 

^ Jack, (indignantly, coming down, l.) He sot fire to the 
cottage ! he's the 1) ingest thief as ever— Oh ! 

[Holding his month. 

Mat. What's the matter, mother? 
/SJack. [in a feigned voire.] Nothing, nothing — I've got the 
distractionest tooth-aehe — oh I [goes- up. 

Stun. Kluabeth you shall keep no such unnatural oath. 

Tom. (coming down, ■<). No, I'm damned if she shall. 

Wul. [scornfully.] 'lis past recalling. 

Stan. Hizabeth, speak? 

Eli. Alas! I am his wife. [mournfully.- 

Mat. [To Walter, sliukiyig his hand.] The knotting done ! 
that's a brave boy ! 

Tom, The knotting donel'no, not his knotting! I only 
wishes I may have the tying on t, and 1 will too, or he shall 
have the choakingr on me, before I surrenders up to him this 
beautiful little craft— [crossing Elisabeth to c] which is only 
fit to be commanded by a captain as is no longer of this arth. 
[taking Elizabeth's arm.] Come away, Miss Rlizabeth, don't 
you cry, what's the use of dying— [blubbering.1 don't look 
so frightened and pale — I'll stow you in safe harbour — come— 

Wul. (r.. c.) What insolence is this? seize that audacious 
scoundrel ! [The four Wreckers advance. 

Tom Scoundrel! you shall pay for that, when 1 comes 
back again, or my name's not Tom Cringle ! [going* %•• 

Mat. (l.) Back again ? Men, do my son's bidding — put 
him under hatches, [the Wreckers seize him, he shakes them off. 

Tom Damn me, d'ye think, 1 can't walk into the bilboes 
without being hauled along? [going up, p..] Oh, that 1 had 
you on board the I hunderer ; and were at this moment in the 
powder room, with a lighted link in my mawley, wouldn't! 
set ye flying like Belzebub's jack daws on the top of Mount 
Strombelow. 

[He goes tip — one of the Wreckers laughs at him, he suddenly 
turns and knocks him down, and runs into the grated Cave, u. 
e. r.— they put a chain across. 

Mat. (c ) Droop not thou, proud Stanton, the Wrecker's 
son lacketh not adowry — the old Manor House shall be his — 
I've bought it ! 

Stan. You? 

Wal, You, father ? 

Mat, Yes boy, I — and have pledged myself to send the 
purchase money, to the village, in less than an hour j here's 



18 TOM CRINGLE* 

the sum— [Taking a canvas bag from his vest.] You must 
with it to the lawyer, and bring back the deeds. 

Wal. [gloomily.] I ? 

Mat. Yes, while that ship rides in the bay, it were as well 
for me to keep on this side the rocks. Go, I'll conduct home 
the bride, and give orders for a jovial ft ast. 

Wal. [sulkily.] I'll do as you say, father — because I must; 
but I wish the old Manor House had been tinder, ere — - 

[going up Stage. 

Mat. Silence ! Now, Stanton ; now, daughter, to the Manor 
House! 

Eli. Daughter' his f burst my heart! 

Stan. (Indignantly, and crossing past her to L.) It is too 
much! 

Eli. [clinging to him.] Keep hold of my hand! I feel a» 
fey death already encircled me in his arms. (Going l. Walter 
approaches on hern.) Ugh! from him, support— into the sea 
— into my grave! any where any where! (She hurries out 
wildly, \.. supported by Stanton— -Walter follows exulting. 

Mat [to Wreckers.] Now, to the wedding feast— all, save- 
you two — who must keep watch outside the cave, over the 
stores and the sailor^ill I return or send. Come, friends. 
UA\ (> jf [Eait, i.— The Wreckers follow. 

Jack. [Who has sank behind the cask, watching them out.'] 
Two on 'em to watch outside the cave ; that's unpleasant — 
but surely they wouldn't be unpleasant to a female, espicially - 
one of the nautical stamp. I'll walk off. 

[Going oft trippantly, v.— Walter meets him, 

Wal. Stay, what's your name J 

Jack. (r. feigning.) My name's Sarah — sensitive Sarahy 
I'm called bymy mamma ; but by low-livM fellows, Sailor 
Sal. Good day. [g°i n g* 

Wat. (i.) Hand over the bottle I saw you tippling from, 
a few minutes ago ; it will serve as a stomachic for me, and} 
the two Wreckers outside, who are as sulky as myself. — 
Come, what is it ?.' 

~~*Jack. A mere drop of brandy, which I carries about roe for 
my tooth ache ; you shall have it, but the cork is somewhat 
broken in, I'll draw it for you. [Walter turns up Stage.] Curse 
me, if I don't give him a dose of old Stanton's opium, it will- 
set him and his two Wreckers napping on their post. 

[Empties phial into bottle.. 

Wak (Coming down, u) Ami to remain here till—— 



tom e kim era. 27 

^^ Jack. Take it, but don't drink too much, it will get into 
your head. [ Tom at grating, watching, 

Wal. Pshaw! [Brinks,'] excellent! here, Sam, Steven, 
drink to the bride, my boys ! to the bride ! [Eiit, l. 

^^Jack. Ha, ha, ha ! now I thinks I may just depind on that 
''"there stoma tic to solder up their senses- He, he, he ! 

[Exulting— going, %, 
Tom. Jack! Gvpsey Jack, ahoy ! 

Jack, [alarmed] Betrayed! I'm a lost voman! who speaks? 
^,-^imn, 1, Tom Cringle, an owld acquaintance of yourn ; 
d'ye think I don't remember your woice, notwithstanding 
your false signals! Just heave back these here bolts, and 
let me out of this cockpit, there's a good fellow. 
.^•Jack. Will you give up Fanny Foxglove r 
Tom. Sartinly, if she prefers you to me. 
Jack. That vont do. 
^'" Tom. No! then I'll tell you what will ; I'll sing out, who 
sot fire to the cottage on the West Cliff — for Fan told me all 
about it. Here goes— [hawling.] If so be, as how, you 
wreckers wants to know, who it was sot fiFe to the straw 

cottage on the 

^*» Jack. [op:ning the door."] My dear fellow, come out; and 
though we be's rivals, you may depind on me; you don't 
think I could go and leave you in this sort of dilemmy, I 
hopes, [aside."] The tarry brute. 

Tom. [Entering."] Why, as for the matter of that, I don't 
intend you should— but this is not all : pass me over that out- 
side rigging. 
Jack. What, my gown and petticoats? 
Tom. Aye, every stitch on't. 
jack, (l.) You forgets I'm a lady. 
Tom, {Pulling, r.) Come, damn me, unrig or I'll sink 
you. 
Jack. Is this your generosity T [undressing, 

Tom. Don't think it's for myself, I consents to put on this 
woman's rigging ; no, but if I can but get clear of these in- 
fernal wreckers, I may reach the ship, and at my bidding, the 
\wholeerew will be down upon the old Manor House just time 
enough to snatch Miss Elizabeth from the fangs of that black 
shark. Walter. [Dieting. 

- Jackal understand you. There, [helping him.] but what's 
to becorfe of me ? —they'll tar and feather me. 
Torn, Oily let then do that, that's all. 



TOM CRINGLE. 



--"* Jack. I'm very much obligated to you — I'd rather they**^ 
would not do that, that's all. 

Tom. (Crossing to l.)' Avast, lubber — you keep close 
alongside 6'roe — keep a bright look out, and answdr signals. 

Enter Surf, l. 

Surf, (t.) Curse me, if my two messmates ain't fallen fast 
asleep, arter drinking with Walter. 
-if Jack. (Aside.) His messmates fast a* leep! that's tbebpium! 

Smf. Come old woman be off with you. [Seeing Jack] 
Who the devil's this? 
> Jack, [aside to Tom.— n.] Who shall I be ? 

Tom. (c.) It's my poor child, don't say a word to him, he's 
only a loblolly boy, and scarcely knows a ships compass from 
a tar bucket. 

Jack, [aside.] Tar bucket ! that minds me of the tarring 
and feathering. 

Suif. [pointing to Jack.] No orders to let him pass — you, 
but not him. v 

Tom. [uskle to Jack.] Pipe your eye a bit. 
,,-- Jack. Pipe my eye ! — it doesn't smoke 

Tom. Blubber fool, can't you 1 

Jack, [roaring.] Not go with my mother ! oh — oh— o — h 

Tom. Silence these squalls boy, and maybe the gintleraan 
will accept a few shiners, as 1 have here in my locker. «* 

Surf. Gold! [aside.] I'll nab that — [to Tom.] but is it 
really gold? 

Tom. Only listen to the chink. [Chinking the money en trie 
head of the cask, lets some jail in.] Oh, dear ! [bawling. 

Surf What now ? 

Tom. Through the crevices of this hatchway, I've slipped 
a couple of pieces; there they lies at the bottom, sparkling 
as brightly as a brace of star-fish in a calm sea. 

SurJ. The boy can dive arter 'em. [pointing to Jack, 

Tom. He dive arter 'em ! what, arid break his precious 
foretop against the j bulk-head ; when 1 passes the word to 
him, he only laughs, in my face, be convinced-^— [Aside making 
signs to Jack not to obey.] Jackey, clamber into that berth, and 
bring up them pretty bits of money, will you, my child.' 
^nJack. [affecting imbecility.] No, I shan't, mother ; vot for 
^^rdid you drop em, you owld fool. Ha, ha, ha ! 

Surf. Ugh ! jest lay hold of my pistol, I'll have^m up in 
a jiffy. [Giving Tom the pistol, he jumps into he msl& 



TOM CRINGLE. 29 

Tom. [aside.] He nibbles! [Gets to i..of cask — Jack on r. 
Smf. [popping up his head] Here they are — I shall keep 
em! 

Tom. [presenting pistol —picture.] Yes, and damn me, your 
berth, too ! down — and attempt to wake your sleeping part- 
ners outside, you're a dead man ! [Surf drops his head — they 
fasten the hasp, and strut out toge her, l. a/^J JL^ 

Tom. Come along, Jackey. ^fl? s^f 

>^ Jack. [hi a squeaking voice.] Yes, mamma ! j^^ 4r^ y& 
Exeunt, l. Arm-in-arm. >c 

•SCENE III. — A solitary pass of rocks. 
Enter Mat. followed by Robert, l. 

Mat. (r.) Can it be possible — Alfred alive, say you? '• 

Rob. (t.) Yes, Alfred, Stanton's son, alive ; and now in 
youi cottage there — (pointing off, l.) I saw him, not ten 
minutes since, on your son Walter's bed asleep. 

Mat. {Gloomily.) On my son Walter's bed, asleep;— 
from sleep to death there is scarcely one degree. Come 
hither, Robert, these rocks have ears. [As he draws Robert 
aside, r. Tom Cringle, enters, i. — stops on seeing Mat. 

Tom. Mat, then I must keep aft. Luckily Jack is not with- 
in hail he moves forward like a coal craft with her keel in the 
sand. 

Mat. Are you quite sure, that it is really Alfred, that has 
escaped from drowning, at the cottage yonder ? 

Rob. Most sure; — he was a little confused in his upper 
jigging at first — what he will be when he wakes, 1 can't say. 

Tom. [aside, joyfully.] My young companion alive ! here's 
news ! 

Mat. Robert, there has been found on the shore, a chest 
of gold, belonging to this Al fred— he must not live to claim it. 

Tom. [At back.] Ah, devil; but I'll thwart him ! 

Rob. \ou are right, Mat ; what is to be done? 

Mat. Return you, to the cottage, see all's clear, but do not 
suffer Alfred to escape till my arrival. Caution ! not a word 
—go 

Rob. I'm gone ! [Exit, l. 

Tom. Yes, and so am I — here's a diskivery ! — see if I don't 
douse yon lubber, and slip the moorings off the good ship 
Alfred, before yon piratical cutthroat come to grapple. 

[Exit cautiously, *™ 



iVi 



30 TOM CRINQLB. 

Mfft. [who has remained in front, lost in thought.] It is de- 
cided — why should I hesitate? this boy, Stanton's boy! he 
would try to break off the marriage of Walter, my son, ray 
only son ; he would appeal to the laws, for the restitution of 
his bride, — tliose just laws, which consigned to Mat this Iron 
Hand — that thought renews my thiist for dire levenge • 
enough, he i? Stanton's son — and in my power — he shall die, 
and by febis knife, with which his father's hellish minions 
maimed myself! [Rushes out, l, 

SCENEfJLg^r-The interior of a miserably furnished Chamber. 
A taitefed bed, u. near it in l. Hat a wind w, — Under the 
>w a sea chest, on which is Alfred's gold laced doublet.-— 
\f Vf broken d»or, 'I e. l. 

Alf. [seated on the bed.] Am I still dreaming? Are these 
waves which rush across my brow,. or— no, 1 am in safety, 
a cottage, [looking ahouu] A bed ! oh, I remember all now 
How exhausted, I fell near the door of this hospitable abode; 
— here's my doublet — carefully dried, [taking it up,] I'll put 
it on, and away to the manor house; although robbed of my 
gold by the avaricious deep ; the welcome of my father and 
my Elizabeth will not, I'm sure, prove the less sincere. But, 
poor Tom Cringle, my faithful follower — he — 

Tom. [at window.] His voice! — Master! 

Alf. What, Tom — Tom Cringle! — is that really you, or 
your ghost ? 

Tom. 1 sir ; right, real arnest flesh and blood ; and are 
you quite sure that it isn't your own ghost passing the word 
to poor Tom ; if not, open the portholes of your lug, and 
quickly, for I've sich tidings as must be told scarcely without 
the time to tell 'em in. [jumping *»• 

Alf. That's right, jump aboard Tom. 

Tom. (r,. Clasping Alfred's hand.) Oh, my dear master! 
I niver thought the grip o'yr fin would set the blood in my 
brit dancing a hornpipe again. 1 can't help piping my eye 
a bit, but that's neither here noi there. You mount this swob's 
rigging, [taking seaman's jacket off bed.] Instead of your own 
which might betray y> u, and crowd all sail from this damned 
quicksand, for under them there rocks, I overheard sich a 
mutineer plot against you. 

Alf. Against me! a stranger? 

Tom. Ah, sir, but these people are Wreckers, reglar baa- 



TOM CRIKGLE. 31 

ditti ; the master of the hut has found your money, and he's 
coming here to deprive you of your life, to silence all claim 
not only to the money but to 

Alf. Well, why do you hesitate ? 

Tom. I — I was thinking of Miss Elizabeth, sir, and your 
father 

Alf. Are they both we 1 It 

Tom. They are sadly in trouble. 

Alf. About me — I'll fly to them at once, [going to door, 

Tom. [draw ng him from the door.] Not that tack, sir ; 
through the. porth le if you please ; under these false colors. 
[takihg up a jacket,] The gold on your own jacket would be- 
tray you. Remember, sir, you have taken Tom's advice in 
many a less dangerous breeze than this might prove. You 
have never repented it, and I am quite sure you wont now. 
Do as 1 say, sir, and when we are beyond pursuit of the ene- 
my, the whole yarn shall be uncoiled. 

Alf. [putting on jacket, throivs his own on the chest.] You 
are a strange telJow, Tom ; however, I'm in no humor to 
cross your good intention, so lend a hand and off I go. 

[Tmaisi>ts him, and he jumps out of window, 

Tom. [calling after him.] Keep close alongside the rock, 
sir, tread softly, be sure not to go down by the beaten track. 
I will but trick the rigging, and be in your wake in a moment* 
[Taking up Alfred's doublet, he finds under it his log book.] 
Curse me, if here 'ant my Log ! what, they've been trying to 
break the lobster's shell and couldn't. No, no, this, which 
is fire-proof and water proof, is also finger proof to every one 
but me. [Putting it round his neck. Light fashes through the 
door, n. v. e. l. as of Steel and flint.] Avast there! striking 
a light to begin then dark work with, eh ? To be sure this 

berth is more dismal than the cock-pit of But I must 

ti sheer off, tr [Going to window, Black Walter appears at it, 

■f Tom shrinks down and conceals himself in front of bed. 

Wal. (drunk.) This is my room, and that's my bed, and 
damme but I'll sleep in it. Ha, ha, ha ! father's an old fool! 
pay for the Manor House, indeed ! not I, I'll keep the purse, 
sleep away an hour here, and then go back to Elizabeth, how 
anxiously she will expect me. Nobody shall see me enter 
then nobody can tell where I've been. [Getsin at the window 
I 1/ goes behind the bed and throwing himself over, his legs come , 

<-oss Tern who crawls under and creeps out at the window. 

Tom. (exclaims) It's all right. [Exit, 



<// 



• 2 TOM CMNCT.R. 

Wat, I can't think what the devil makes my head so con- 
fused and heavy. Deuce take me, if I don't think that internal 
Sailor Sal gave me something stronger than Brandy, worse 
and worse; I must go to bed. (Throws off his jacket, and 
throws it down.) Yaw! the place swims round like a cork in 
a whirlpool. {The Flint and Steel is renewed. — Walter, who 
has fallen on the bed, sturU up a little.) Ah, that's dad's voire 
striking a light to enter the dead house, as he calls my room. 
What the plague shall I say M'll refit and crowd all sail.— 
(by mistake he puts on Alfred's doublet, instead uj l his own.) I 
can't stir, no.— ^Dizzy and more dizzy ; here I must re 
j/*ii&\n; I'll go to bed. {Throws himself on bed, with hh face 
'%fpon the pillow, as t e door opens x>jlly, and Mat Enters cau- 
tiously with lamp. Robert watching at door. 

Mat. Back, back, not a step further with the lamp, it glit- 
ters on the gold lace of his doublet ; that's enough for me.— 
(gives lamp to Robert.) Hush! (Robert disappears, kat advances 
to the bed.) He is fast asleep; so best; Stanton, I strike your 
son with my left hand, and with the self same knife with 
which, be your ordtr, my good right hand, was sundered from 
this body vSY*> f$ 

[He goes to the bed, and stabs Walter, then rushes forward. 

Mai. It is done ! not a struggle ! not a sigh ! (looking at 
his hand.) What a sight is here ! — Well, it is but blood for 
blood — his for mine. 1 he body in a chest I'll have convey- 
ed to the Manor House, and then for my hour of triumph — 
to the Manor house, Walter — I am revenged, amply reveng- 
ed. And Elizabeth is fully thine, ha, ha, ha! 
. /\z^i) / J [Mut hurries out at door, 2 e. l., exulting. 

SCENE V. — An apartment in the Manor Htuse. 

Enter Stanton, r. hastily. 

Stan. A prisoner, I ? not permitted to depart ? a captive to 
the will of Mat of the Iron hand ? 'tis true, I am in his power 
but can he betray me without betraying himself? yet, could 
I but escape hence, I might call on justice to save poor Eli- 
zabeth from these low ruffians. They shall not oppose my de» 
parture, again I will insist. Ah ! Mat here! 

Enter Mat, t. 

Mat. (gloomily.) Walter not yet returned j 'tis singular, 



: 



TOM CRIWCll. S3 

the government would not dare to detain the boy; bo, impos- 
sible, (seeing Stanton.) Ugh! (starting.} Who are you t 

Stan What mean you? 

Mat. Nothing:. At first those features reminded me of— of 
your son. (aside.) Why should I tremble. Where can Wal» 
ter be 1 

Stan. Why am I a prisoner? I insist on going. 

Mat. (staring.) Going! you? 

Stan. Aye. 1 ; do you know me ? 

Ma*. Do I not know thee? Yes, too well I know thee—* 
thou art the unjust magistrate who, twenty years ago, lentcnc- 
ed a wretched smuggler to lose his right hand. 

Stan. Unjust judge! 1 well remember that event; the 
smuggler you spoke of, was a murderer! 

Mat. At least he was innocent of the crime for which you 
punished him. 

Stan. Proofs were most strong against him. The villain 
they called by the name of 

Mat. PaulMartinford! 

Stan. You knew him, then ? 

Mat. Yes ! I am he ! ( Future.) 

Stan, (recoiling.) Thou! 

Mat. Yes, I — who after twenty years of ignominious ab- 
sence, returned to my native village to find thee, my eon* 
demner, steeped in ruin — in poverty deeper than mine own ; 
I have tempted thee to imitate the guilt for which I, by 
thy edict, was branded — maimed. Have I not reason to boast 
that I have been avenged? 

Stan. Oh, yes — terribly, terribly! 

Mat. My triumph is not yet complete. 

Stan. How ! have you not rendered me culpable as your- 
self? Elizabeth, too — she — she shall not become your victim! 
Ko, I deserve thy hate, but she 

Mat. She is my son's wife! the daughter of the mangled 
felon, who — 

Stan. (Crosses to, l.) Monster! all shall not terminate 
here. 

Mat. (detaining him.) Thou sayest rightly — all shall not 
terminate here. You call me a monster, and I bring thee 
tidings of thy son. 

Stan, (starting ) Of m^ son ! 

Mat. Aye, joyful ones! he hath escaped drowning. New 
am I a monitor ! 



34 



TOM CRIVGLF. 



Stan. Oh, I dare not believe thee— thee! my boy ? 

Mat. Thou shalt see him ! 

Stan. In Heaven ! 

Mat. On earth ! 

Stan. When? 

Mat. This instant. 

Stan. Where? * 

Mat, Here in the manor hall — come, I'll conduct thee to 
him. 

Stan. Is this generosity, or scorn ? 

Mat. If there be truth on I he lip of man, thou shalt behold 
thy son. Mat, who owes to thee this iron hand, will so repay 
his wrong. Am I not generous ? 

Stan. Paul Mar tin ford, either ways, thou art avenged. De- 
ceive me, and my heart will break with anguish — if thy words 
be true, 'twill burst with joy! [Eieutit, r. 

SCENE VI.— The Bannered Halt of the Manor House-the 
R. suvported by a pillar, in is a large iron ring — the back is 
eomposed of a large window, locking into the sea, lit by moon- 
light. — A large chest in c. 

Elizabeth discovered, seated in a gothic chair ; the moonlight 
. fulls upon her face. — Fanny is near her, 

Eli. Sea, sea! that look'st so calm and beautiful, as if 
that silver mirror of the moon, were only wrought for happy 
souls to gaze in ; why art thcu so like a treacherous murderer, 
that smileth in the face, of childhood — wrecking the confi- 
dence that thy falsehood lures! (starting up.) Ocean fiend! 
give me back my Alfred! I know he is in thy bosom — shall 
he be there, and I here 1 no, no, no ! now frantic as I am I'll 
plunge into the deep abyss! Alfred is my bridegroom — I'll 
have none other ! (screaming.) Ha, ha, ha! he becons me! 
Alfred, I come ! ha ! ha ! ha ! [Rushing towards the sea, falls 
overpowered into the chair. 

Fan. The sight of that nasty sea will drive her mad — and 
I do believe she be a dying already. Poor thing ! poor 
hing! [Hanging over her. 

Enter Mat and Stanton, followed by six Wreckers, 1 e. r. 

Mat. Looks not the old hall gaily? this feudal hall, of 
•whieh thine ancestors were so proud, Stanton — methinks it 



TOM CRINGLE. 



smiles, to-night, a grimly triumph — the old banners seem t» 
do us equal homage as we enter. There's not a cobweb om 
the fretted roof, but droops to dutis mutual honor 1 

Stan, (looking about) My son? 

Mat. (r.) In my excess of joy, I had forgotten thy so»— 
look around, he is near thee. 

Stan. Near me. I see nothing akin to me, but the pale dis- 
tracted features of Elizabeth, and she scarce remembers me* 

(Gazmg ut her.) Elizabeth, Alfred is al (aside.) Yet, at 

one;*, I'll not disclose the tidings — joy might suddenly o'er* 
whelm her. (to Mat.) Where is my boy ? 

Mat. Speak softly, you'll disturb him. 

Stan, (surprised.) Disturb him! is he asleep? 

Mat. (maliciously ) Aye! dost thou think thy voice wiii 
wake him? 

Stun. Certainly. 

Mat. Try! 

Stan. Alfred! {Pause. 

Mat. You see he is undutiful, and does not Teply. 

Stun This is some jest ; ah, he little knows that it is cruel 
to trifle with his old father's heart, now— call him, you, 
Elizabeth. 

Eli. (who hat advanced with a degree of wild energy.) I ? 

Mat. Aye, try the effect of your voice ; love has a greater 
influence than duty. 

Eli. (looking timidly around.) What mean you? is he alive? 
Alfred 1 

Stan. (eog»rly.) Oh, summon him, Elizabeth, or 

Eft. (with appalling fervor.) From the grave ] Al — Alfred? 

Alf. (without) Elizabeth 1 . 

Alfred enters, u. e. l.«— Stands far a moment in the hack, c. 
'—then rushes down, and cutches Elizabeth on one arm, while 
Stanton clasps his hand, and appears overcome with emotion.—- 
Mat. as if stricken torpid at the sight of Walter stands apart 
k. — his lips distended— his eyes fixed on vacancy.— Chord*— 
and Ptcture. ^/V Q f < "~ 

Alf Father, dear father ! my own beloved Elizabeth f 
Stun. I am repaid for all. 

Eli. (recovering.) Ha, ha, ha ! Oh, let me gaze on thee 
■dear Alfred — let me read again thy well remembered looks- 
renew every recollection of past delight 1 Yes, yes, it is he— 
he clasps me again in his areas — his — ha, ha, ha! I shall ge 



36 TOM CRINGLF. 

mad with ecstacy ! ( frautkly laughing.) Ha, ha, ha ! 

Alf. Calm thee, Hizal.eih! 

Mat. (starting.) Where is my son ? I want my son ! Wal- 
ter! Walter! 

Eli. (springing from the embrace of Alfred) \h, powers 
of mercy! that name— and I am his 1 what am 1 doing 1 in 
the arms of Alfred! and 1—1, Waiter's wile! — Oh — 

[ Fa I. Is senseless on the ground. 

Alf. "What said she? .the wife af another"! — Elizabeth ! — 

[raising her. 

Mat. (maliciously-.) Yes,. the wife of the despised wrecker's 
son — of — but who is he that sleepeth there, in thy stead 1 
Lift up the lid of the chest, that 1 may know the worst 1 (Tico 
Wreckers lift the lid.) Ugh ! Walter dead ! curses light on thee 
detested Stanton ! 1 have muidered my own son, for thine ! 
My poor, poor boy ! [He falls weeping m the chest. 

Eli. (Creeping up and looking into chest.) Yes, it is Walter 
— Heaven, 1 confided in thee — terrible, but just, retribution! 
I understand — 1 understand ! 

Mat. (Looking iv i Idly about, draivs the knife from his belt, 
and advances. Boy, 1 will revenge thy doom, terribly — fear- 
fully ! make fast every door, and secure me those wretches, to 
the iron ring in yonder pillar — quick — (Four Wreckers seize 
Alfred and Stanton, and drug them to the pillar — secure them 
and retire to l. — Funny runs off, v. e. l.) My brave boy, this 
shall terribly avenge .thee ! this same knife, with which my 
hand was sundered, in this same hall, in which I was falsely 

{"udged ! for my hand, thy hand ; for my son's blood, thy sou's 
>lood ! [to Stanton. 

Eli. (Starting up, and snatching a pistol, stands before Alfred 
and Stanton, in an uttitude of defiance.) Elizabeth is near thee! 
Now, wretches, he that moves one step to injure these defence- 
less beings, die ! 

Mat. (sneering.) See I the mild EHzabeth Stanton ? 

Eli. Aye ; Elizabeth Stanton, the meek, the trembling 
Elizabeth, that was: but I am changed — chilled to ice by 
your inhumanity! ny nature frozen! beware! great deeds, 
ere now, have been performed by women, in the impulse of 
terrible emotions ! even by the mildest. Heaven hath given 
them superhuman strength, . to avenge injury! 1 repeat it 
again ; in the name of all that is sacred, and you know 1 can 
keep an oath ; that the first, who is so rash as to approach me, 



TOM CRINGLE. 37 

or fhem, in the way of violence, will I with this dagger strike 
dead ! [menacing. 

Mat. (l.) Fools! why recoil ye! Wreckers! and afraid 
of a woman! well remain, transfixed --till this knife be for 
niy purpose, whetted, then vengeance' (Whets the knife, 
kneelnig.) Ha! ha! ha! prepare! prepare! 

Tom. ( Hmhitig on from, v. e. t„ and jumping upon the hoi) 
Hollo! what cheer heie? what tack aie you running on, eh.' 
owld Shylock ? I was told that you and your gang, had taken 
a vast fancy to examine the contents of my log book — here it 
is. m [producing it. 

Mat. (l.) Idiot, begd&e! 

Tom. (c ) Begone ! fsbeer off! oh dear no, by no manner 
of means ! I'm here with a flag of truce, to negociate! give 
up my commander, with his father, and Miss Elizabeth, and 
all the cargo of money there! and you shall have my free 
permission to march out of the fortress, with all your crew, 
and your son into the bargain. 

Mat. Hush upon the insolent hound, with your knives, 

Tom. Avast! then since you are so pressing, share the con- 
tents of the log book amongst you. {Opening it and taking 
out a pair of pitsols.) In the shape of as pretty a pair of Mys- 
ore bull dogs, as ever was crammed to the muzzle, for tiger 
shooting! [Presenting, they recoil. 

Mat. \Vhot j^held at bay by a single braggart ? 

'lorn. I beg your pardon, I'm not quite alone. Shew your- 
self Jack! step forward like a man, and unslew that damned 
cord about my commander's grappling irons. 

Enter Jack, u. e. t. and meeting Mat, shrinks acrosston. 
"■— ~" — — «*- Terribly frightened. ~~ 

Jack. Bless my soul, Mr. Mat, I didn't quite reckon on 
meeting you here, face to face' but my friend, Tom Cringle 
—oh dear ! [Recusing Alfred and Stanton 

Mat. (Furiously.) Thwarted! never, thus Stanton ! blood 
for blood! perish! 

Tom. No quaiter ? then broadside for broadside ! die! {Tom 
shoots him as he advances. The Wreckers wield their knives. A 
loud shout without, and in rush the ship's crew, and Marines. 
General scuffle, the Wreckers worsted. Marines and Sailors 
standing near them. The ship seen close to the window, the 
rigging filled with Sailors, shouting. Alfred rushes to Elizabeth 



trfo lh 



T6M C*IN«M. 



in *. f«*n«r, and Stanton blesses them. Fanny runs on from v - 
n. L,and Tom embraces her. Jac k on thech estin c. Shouting 
and dancing. A general Picture."" '" 

THE CURTAIN FALLS. 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




